


For Auld Lang Syne

by truth_renowned



Series: One-Word Prompts [30]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, New Year's Eve, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 20:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13256325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_renowned/pseuds/truth_renowned
Summary: Peggy and Daniel work the night shift on December 31, 1947.





	For Auld Lang Syne

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the one-word prompt 'fireworks'.

Peggy walked into Daniel’s office, two coffee mugs in her hands. So far it had been a silent night, which was expected for New Year’s Eve. The radio was on, awaiting the familiar Guy Lombardo song to ring in the new year. Daniel’s hand was moving furiously, finishing up a report. 

She placed both mugs on his desk, and he looked up at her with a soft smile.

“Thanks, Peg.”

“I’m not done.” She bent down to reach the bottom desk drawer, opening it and withdrawing a silver flask. 

“Good idea.”

“Figured you could use a pick-me-up. I certainly can.” She poured a few sips worth of brandy in both mugs. “It was very nice of you to let the boys off for New Year’s Eve.”

“They deserve it. They’ve been working their tails off the past six months.” He took a sip of the coffee and nodded his approval of its liquored improvement. “You didn’t need to be here, either. I can handle the night shift myself. I’m sure Stark is having some soiree with his, what does he call them, production assistants.”

“More like conquests,” she responded as she leaned her bum against his desk, her top lip curled in a sneer. “I have no desire to be part of a Howard Stark orgy.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. “You really think he--”

She raised a hand. “I don’t want to think about that. At all. Ever.”

“Still,” he offered, “you could be home.”

“And doing what? No, you’re here.”

He smiled, and she was about to add that there was no place she’d rather be than here with him when a series of pops surprised them both.

She stood up from the desk and shot him a concerned look, but he shook his head.

“I’m guessing fireworks,” he said. 

And as if on cue, Peggy heard the orchestral opening strains of Auld Lang Syne on the radio.

A sly smile tugged at her lips. “It’s midnight. And you know what people do when it’s midnight on January first?”

“I have an idea,” he said, standing up.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “It is a tradition, after all.”

“Can’t go against tradition,” he said before lowering his lips to hers. 

A familiar warmth spread through her, a contentment that came only from kissing this man. This wonderful, kind, passionate man, who at the moment tasted of coffee with a hint of brandy and something sweet she couldn't quite place. A mint perhaps? 

She didn't get the chance to explore further, as he pulled back.

“Happy New Year, Peg.”

“Happy New Year, Daniel.”

The fireworks continued to crackle in erratic staccatos. Peggy stepped away from Daniel, moving to the outside window and pulling back the blinds. She looked to the left, then the right as another percussive pop sounded.

“Oh, you can just see the fireworks, over here,” she said, pointing at the far right side of the window. 

“Probably going off at Griffith Park.” He stepped behind her, his arm slipping around her waist.

She stared out the window for several seconds, waiting for the next visual surprise. One particularly brilliant display with flecks of red, white and blue caused her to gasp and say, “Oh, so lovely.”

“If you say so,” he replied softly. “What I’m looking at is much more lovely.”

Peggy turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “Really, Daniel. You’re being sappy again.”

He shrugged. “You bring out the sap in me.”

Her fingers traced the lapel of his jacket. “I’d rather bring out something else in you.”

“I’ll bet you would,” he whispered, leaning toward her.

This kiss was not a New Year’s kiss. The only celebration it promised was one they would partake in when they got home.

Daniel broke the heated kiss with a sigh. “Enough of that. I don’t think my chair could take any more christening.”

“Your desk looks rather sturdy, though,” she teased.

He chuckled. “Don’t tempt me.”

“It’s my job.”

“And you’re very good at it.”

She leaned in for another kiss but pulled back at the sound of the telephone. 

With a sigh, Daniel moved to his desk and picked up the receiver. “Sousa.”

She watched his expression go from annoyance to interest within a few seconds. He scribbled something on a pad of paper.

“Right,” he said. “We’re on our way.”

He hung up the receiver and moved to grab his crutch from the wall.

“Something’s going on at the La Brea Tar Pits,” he said.

“What?”

“A dead body and… well, the LAPD detective wasn't really sure. Some kind of viscous liquid surrounding the body but it's not tar. His exact words were, ‘My lou says if it’s bizarre, call the SSR. Trust me, it’s bizarre.’”

“Lucky us.”

Peggy walked out of Daniel’s office and straight to her desk. Opening the top drawer, she withdrew her gun and holstered it, then grabbed her suit jacket.

“Shall we?” she asked as he walked out of his office.

He nodded, then stopped. She quirked an eyebrow, wondering what was on his mind. He surprised her by taking her hand and pulling her closer. She met his gaze, finding such tenderness in his eyes. Must be that sappiness coming back, she thought, though truth be told, she liked that sappiness very much.

“One more kiss,” he said, “for auld lang syne.”

She smiled, more than happy to indulge him, and herself, in a kiss that was chaste yet no less meaningful.

He pulled back and gave her hand a quick squeeze before letting go. 

“All right, Carter. Let’s go see what bizarreness LAPD has in store for us.”

And just like that, Sappy Daniel was gone, replaced by the ever-professional Chief Sousa. She marveled at how he could flip that switch so quickly and precisely. It was just one more reason why she loved him so.


End file.
